A Night For the Truth
by getvelwaii
Summary: COMPLETE PRE HBP. Hermione likes Ron, Ron likes Hermione. When they both admit it Ron declines Hermione's offer for a date and she wants to know why. This leads to awkward situations...but then there's a dance, which might change and explain everything.
1. Letter to Ron

A/N: I wrote this when I was twelve (I'm not anymore), so keep that in mind with the grammar and terms. A few months makes little difference though. I know that this chapter is short, really this entire story will be very short as a whole. The next onewill belonger, but I really think that I should write more as a goal... Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter One: Letter to Ron**

_Dear Ron, _

Ronald Bilius Weasley. Your name says it all. I do think though, that it might be you that makes the name so great. After all, a name is a name. What is even greater then the name is the person behind it, you. For lack of a better description you are just, in a word, Ron. You have all these little quirks that just elude Ronness. I notice all those little things, things you only know when you spend your spare time watching somebody. I'm not a stalker, I just glance up every so often from my work to look at you. I've learned to obsess, but not obsess. Is that even possible?

In the privacy of my own mind, however, the only things that run through are related to you. I don't tell anybody this. The only female friends I have aren't close. They are 'I'll sit with you in the library and be nice to you but don't actually expect me to enjoy it' types. Not that they would be seen in the library anyway. The only good friends I have are you and Harry. Of course there is Ginny, but you're her brother and I suppose that would be a little strange. There is little hope for any more companions, after all everybody's groups are already composed.

I always manage to subdue my feelings. I don't cower in your presence or stare for hours on end. I immerse myself in my lessons and manage to forget, except when I'm near you. But I'm always near you. I grasp every chance. It's good we that we are friends; otherwise my attempts might seem desperate. I always talk with you. Every conversation is doomed to be replayed in my head followed with a smile. I can't help it. It has become somewhat of a habit. I usually stay awake for hours on end and then silently scold myself the next day for not studying or sleeping.

I've had this infatuation with you for some time now. It took some time though; I didn't feel this right away. I just woke up one morning and came to a big realization. School had been in session for four months already. It was no case of 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'. I don't know what happened. I was in denial for a year and five months. I counted. I knew how I felt, but I pushed you in the back of my mind and convinced myself that the reason I lay awake at night was because of some test or assignment. But I was aware of everything.

You aren't the most handsome person, but I'm still attracted to you. I don't know why (come to think of it I don't know much of anything anymore.) You are just to me incredibly, well, everything. You are the cause of my euphoria and heartbreak. I have been having this sinking feeling lately, like I'm digging myself into a deeper pit of never getting your attention. It is like in fifth year when I got hit with that curse, but it hurts more. (I'm trying to give you a comparison seeing as you probably won't be able to understand what I'm feeling.)I'll just tell you that I feel like that now, all because of you.  
From Me to You,  
Hermione Granger

This is the letter that I flushed down the toilet. I ripped it up into about twenty pieces, crumpled it up and threw it down Hogwart's plumbing system. I'm usually not the type to take things that required so much energy and emotion and then ruin them, especially when I create it. In truth, I'm the type who loves to look at my accomplishments over and over, and believe me, this letter of admittance is an accomplishment. I don't write in diary, or talk about the subject of boys with anybody. I just can't because knowing that the idea of who I like is out there, even in the most trustworthy person, is scary. So I guess admitting my secret to paper, even if I destroy it, is a very big step.


	2. I Saw You Three Weeks Ago

A/N: Lets just pretend that they are having a dance, okay. I know they're not and never will but I wanted it to be more casual then a ball. This is written in first person and Hermione is looking back and talking like she's telling a story. This chapter is a bit longer, but still fairly short.

Disclaimer: As you know, I do not own Harry Potter.

**Chapter Two: I Saw You Three Weeks Ago  
**  
I never asked to fall in love with Ron. I never asked for my girlish hormones. I curse my stupid, stupid hormones. (Really, what is the formula for attraction? Does hormone A + hormone BLove?) I wish I could just live life with out so many complications. This is coming from the girl who can solve advanced Arithmancy problems but can't tell a guy "I am secretly in utterly, mad, insane love with you". It has already happened though, he already knows, but the problems don't stop there. I feel so confused, uplifted and furious! Where does he get off sending off such mixed signals? It is like he wants to take my heart and wrench it until I yell 'mercy' and finally break.

Do you want to know why I feel like this? It is all because of that moment three weeks ago. I can't classify it. At the time being it was wonderful but it has morphed into the evil subject of my being.

_Flashback  
"Ron, what are you doing up? You can't just come waltzing into the common room after hours!" I was sitting on the common room's couch flipping through my Charms textbook frantically when I was interrupted by the sound Ron creeping(though not quietly enough) through the Fat Lady's portrait hole. _

"I could ask the same of you," he retorted as he tried to slide out of view into the shadows as if he were hiding something.

"Well, I woke up and started testing myself for the test in Charms and then realized I didn't know one of the answers. I'm still trying to find it," I explained while fingering the well worn pages of my textbook.

"We don't have a test in Charms, Flitwick postponed it until Thursday. That was the announcement that he made while we were practicing magnifying our voices with "Sonorus". But you do have a test in Ancient Runes on the homework you did in the past month," he said nonchalantly.

"How do you know when I don't? You're not even taking the class!"

"I just …do," he spoke in a slight whisper and picked lint off the sweater that he had obviously thrown over his nightclothes. I realized he was avoiding my eyes.

"Are you certain? I mean are you positive, are you absolutely sure. Because that means that I just spent all this time studying the wrong subject. Oh! I'm going to fail. I know the material to a certain degree, but not well enough. Here is what I'll do. I'll study for a few more hours, go to sleep, study during breakfast and then again during lunch. Of course I'll have to skip lunch, but only then is there any hope," It was at this point that I started to freak out and had jumped up from my spot on the sofa. I waving my hands and emphasizing certain points.

"Hermione, would you like to just sit down for a moment. All this," he mimicked the motions of my hands, "can't be good for your health, or for those around you. You could poke out my eye, for instance."

"Fine, I'll stop, but I need to go study; what with there being a test I'm not prepared for," I was pacing now, and then set off in a rampant search for my Ancient Runes book.

"You pay attention in class and do your homework; that is more then most people do. You will do fine," he coaxed me.

"I can't do fine! I need to do better then that!" I turned around abruptly and snapped at him. I swear he was stifling bouts of laughter.

"I'll help you. I could use the extra studying too."

"For a subject you don't take? No, go to sleep. I think your lack of it is affecting your brain. I'm fine, I'm a self-sufficient individual. I've always studied by myself. It will all work out in the end, hopefully."

"No, just get your book and…"

"There is no point; someone left their copy on the couch. I'm just going to be reading the material over. I don't think there is anything you can do. Yawn." He had already fallen asleep. I started reading but as I found myself reading lines repeatedly and squinting at a mixture of blocky black figures I drifted off into dreamland.

Two hours later I woke up but kept my eyes shut not wanting to face the day. It was only three o'clock in the morning, but I knew I had to study. However, before I opened my eyes I realized that I was in the most comfortable position of being right in the arms of Ron. He was so close I trace his heartbeats and feel his warm breath hitting my skin.

In a low whisper he began as he stroked my hair, "Hermione Jane Granger, a name that gives me the chills… in a good way of course." He paused and then started again in a volume barely recognizable as a whisper, "Too bad. Too bad she doesn't know how much I enjoy her presence, how much I want to console her when she's angry or sad. How much she means to me."

I took my possibly only chance to express myself. There was only about three seconds between his last word and my first, "Ron, I like you too. It feels odd saying that, but it also feels right."

"You're awake?" Ron said in a shocked voice with red creeping up on his face. (But he was still running his fingers through my hair.)

"I'm awake." I said with a slight smile while looking up at him, "Do you think that perhaps in our awake-ness we could do something together, alone?"

"Definitely, wait, no I can't. I can't. I'm, I…It's just… goodnight." He stopped touching my hair, sat upright, pushed me off him and walked in a fast pace up the staircase to the boy's dormitory. With each pounding up the steps, my heart and head broke out into gut wrenching sadness and confusion.

But I could still feel the comforting heat of his hand leaving traces of the truth in my hair.

End Flashback

So here I am. It is 7:38 and another day of a dance. Time sure flies when you are telling stories of heartbreak. Well, I have to go now. I'm being forced into this by Harry. I'll go and sulk. Maybe I'll get asked to dance. I hate fast songs but slow songs are so, sigh. Not that I've been asked to dance to one, the only dance I've done is the waltz. Okay, is not very likely that I'll get asked to dance, but the hopeless romantic in me can dream... After all, who would want to dance with Hermione Granger, girl extraordinaire?

Right now I'm wishing that in some alternate universe Ron sweeps me off my feet and asks me to dance and so ends the horrible tension forced onto Harry and this stress placed upon me that have nothing to do with NEWT's. I mean, he's not even acting like himself. Ron hasn't been my friend or my enemy and he hasn't even ignored me. He's been civil which the worst possible thing because I can't even be mad at him; I have to be polite back. And I really don't want to be polite to the guy who turned me down.


	3. His 9 Year Old Self Comes Back To Haunt

A/N: This is another short chapter…but here it is. You might be wondering why it took me so long for such a short chapter, well being the control freak I am I had to edit it a million times. My sister wanted to read my story so I let her and she said it was weird how I got inside Hermione's head but then I reminded her it was from her PoV and she said it was still weird. I asked her if it was weird in a good way and she said it was just "_weird"_. Enough with my ranting, here is the next little installment.

Disclaimer: Once again, I do not own Harry Potter.

**Chapter Three: His 9 Year Old Self Comes Back To Haunt Him**

"Ron, you _must_ go!" I had been listening to Ginny pleading with Ron to attend the dance from my dormitory for a fair amount of time. It's like Harry and Ginny had it all planned out with Harry attacking me, and Ginny, Ron. Well, it didn't take a lot to convince me, I wanted to go. Ron was different story, but Ginny had gotten a hold of him and he had been making up excuses all the while.

"No Ginny. I have homework." He said in the monotone that comes along with repeating yourself over and over.

"No, you don't because Harry doesn't and you take all the same classes. C'mon, do this for your little sister. I hate to see you all alone on a night such as this."

"No Ginny."

"Please."

"No."

"Please." Pause

"Fine, but I don't have a date therefore I can't go; maybe next time." I heard a thump onto the fluffy common room couch.

"Just go with Hermione." Ginny said with the utmost casualty.

I can sense Ron's blush. How dare Ginny set us up! (It's a well-known fact that Ginny has plans for me to become her future sister-in-law.)

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, I can hear you!" I yelled as I started down the stairs before Ginny could interfere in my life any more, "It's my life, not yours."

"Why must you use my full name, Hermione Jane Granger?" She said in a sickly sweet tone masking a conniving agenda.

"Because it emphasizes a point!" I yelled on the way down the staircase, leaving the safety of my dormitory, about to meet my doom.

"Which would be…?"

"That Ron does not want to go to the dance with me and he can go alone if he pleases. This is a different concept than a ball; a dance holds certain casualties," I cut her off when I finally entered the room.

"Of course Hermione would know," she said in an undertone and then put on a peppy demeanor, "but you and you together," she brought both of us together so we banged into each other, "equals happy, if not greater."

As soon as she did that we both immediately jumped away from one another, "That has nothing to do with it. Ron doesn't want to go to the dance with me. I suggest he either not go or go alone." I rubbed the side of my arm as I spoke.

"Well, what do you want? You spend so much time speaking for him, but what's your reason. I've heard his, what's your objection?" She stuck her face in mine inquisitively.

"My objection is that he does not want to. It's almost time to go, so let's go," I fully realize that I made a deliberate attempt to change the subject.

"Denial is the first step," Ginny sighed and turned to her brother, "Anyway, Ron this can be the birthday present that you never gave me when I turned eight. You didn't even remember my birthday. At that age your presents were homemade but at least I knew you cared." And with that she put her hand over her heart and showed puppy-dog eyes.

"Ron, you forgot her birthday, I'm ashamed. Now you really have to go." Harry spoke for the first time with mock horror, but you could tell he wanted Ron to go for whatever reason.

"I was nine!" Ron said, exasperated.

"Yes, but it's that one year where you forgot your dear sister's birthday. This is how you can make amends. If I die before you, how would you feel knowing that? I'm still that eight year old waiting for my brother to say "happy birthday Ginny". You don't want to deprive a young child…" She was dearly milking it for all it was worth. Ginny can be very overdramatic when she wants to.

"Fine, Ginny I'll go."

"Yeah!" she squealed and hugged her brother. "I'm doing this because I care. You should really be thanking me. You're so lucky to have a sister who is a hopeless romantic."


	4. I Just Want To Dance

**A/N: This is the fluffiest freaking chapter there ever was. I think it's a tad bit over fluffed and cheesy, but sweet in a weird way. Okay, I'll have you know that part of this chapter was word by word a true event. I didn't happen to me, but let's just say I was the Ginny character…I actually said the line "Do you want me to…" and in the same way too. The nonfiction ends as they dance. Just read the story and find out. Oh, but this is not the end, there will be a couple one-shots relating to the story. By the way, I know that in this story Ron is OOC, he acts a lot more mature then he really is, but let's overlook that fact for the good of the story. **

**Four Facts About This Story: **

**1. The last chapter was originally done to "Kiss Me Fool" by Fefe Dobson.**

**2. I wrote the original draft (it was horrible!) in a couple of days in February.**

**3. Some portions of this are like, word for word my diary about events and thoughts of me and other people. **

**4. I had an awesome time putting this up! I got reviews, I'm so glad I got at least one review. I'm one part of a fanfiction writing duo, and I'm glad I have this story to up my confidence because I was feeling bad after one flame that totally dispirited me. (Hey, I'm at a very impressionable age laughs) THANKS TO MY TWO REVIEWERS: _Morning Rose_ and _Magster_, YOU ROCK!**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Four: I Just Want to Dance**

The dance ended a while back. I've lost all sense of time. I really can't remember. I'll go back. After Ginny had cajoled Ron into going (without me however) we set off for the Great Hall. Once inside Ron bolted away from me and Ginny got whisked off to dance. Harry stayed with me (I tried to convince myself it wasn't out of pity) but later ran off. I was left alone to sulk on the side of the hall.

I sat down in one of the many chairs provided for the wallflowers. Among my company were Millicent Bulstrode and Eloise Midgen. Knowing that I was on the ranks of the famously shy and intimidating wasn't very comforting. My eyes crossed from my fellow sit-in-a-chair-and-never-get-asked-to-dance companions across the Great Hall and there was Ron, dancing with some younger Hufflepuff girl. I just sat slouched, arms crossed, hunched over, sending him an evil glare. It's not like he could see me and its not like he would do anything responsive.

Harry came over to ask how I was doing. I stared a death stare and said, "Existing". He knew me well enough to back off. After he ran away from me he conversed with Ginny. She giggled, nodded her head at me, and pointed to the dance floor. I'm not going to avoid it; I knew that they were talking about me. Harry was most likely asking what was wrong with me and why I was so snappish. Ginny was probably saying, in the tone of talking to a five year old, that I was mad and depressed that I wasn't with Ron. That wasn't too far from the truth, though, but she didn't know the whole story. Well, boys can be really clueless as Ron is so good at demonstrating.

My thoughts kept turning over in my head. I was mad. Ron kept avoiding me. When we talked the conversations were purely strained. "He did agree he did; why did he change his mind?" That's what I asked myself over and over again. At that moment I was cursing his Gryffindor pride. If only he knew how it had affected me. I couldn't change what Ron did. I just hoped I could. It killed me. Everything. It hurt me that Ron had changed his mind. It hurt that I didn't know why. And it ate me up inside out that I cared so much. But I was also scared that I would spend my life wondering what could have been.

I had already spent so much time awake at night observing the event over and over in my mind that there had to be some closure. After the song faded out another one took its place. You guessed it, a slow song. Slow songs drop my heart into the pit of my stomach. You wouldn't be able to see from my unchanging façade, though. The cheesy, sappy, lovely music filled the air. I watched all the happy people rocking back and forth. I wanted to dance, but with one lone person. My heart tugged. I was in deep yearning.

Ginny must have noticed my deep expression and walked over to me in what I believe was an attempt to cheer me up and said, "Hey Hermione, what's wrong?"

"I want to dance." I replied in a somewhat dull voice compared to her peppy demeanor. She just came bouncing up to me with total happiness and hyper-ness.

"Do you want me to force some guy to dance with you?"

"Oh, no, no, no." Then in absolutely perfect timing Ron showed up, pulled me up by my wrist and said, "Hermione." In a soft voice I could surprisingly hear through the music. In the background I noticed Ginny sighing "Awwww….that is _so_ sweet. I'm going to cry." I went up with him and two yards later I was dancing. My arms slowly snaked over his neck and my body rested on his thick robes. It was like one long heavenly hug. I just concentrated on my own breathing, getting distracted by his.

Later, when the music stopped I became startled, stiffened up, and ran. I ran to the closest girl's bathroom and rushed into one of the stalls, slamming the stone door behind me. I guess that I finally realized the position I was in and I didn't want to show him that I still cared immensely. I had no time to analyze the situation because I was followed moments later by a lanky, freckled, red-haired Gryffindor boy who happened to be one of my best friends.

"Hermione, I think this is the place where lots of monumental things happen. Bathrooms should be remembered as very special places. We brewed the Polyjuice potion in one; this is the place where we actually became friends, and the place that you are somehow attracted to whenever you're upset. I haven't been here in a while. That might have something to do with me being a boy, but anyways we've changed since that time we faced the mountain troll. We went from hate to like to love." He walked slowly up and down past the stalls.

"Love? You love me like a sister, right?" I yelled through the stone.

"I love you as immensely as Ginny, but not in the same way."

"Then as a friend I bet." I said in a slightly quieter voice that still created echoes.

"I love you as a friend Hermione, but also greater."

"Then why did you turn me down? I only said something because I thought you would agree! In fact, it was pretty much guaranteed. You admitted it! I don't take risks, and this is why; even the most fool-proof things fall apart." I burst out of the stall only to meet him face to face.

"I was scared, alright. As cheesy as it is, it's true. I didn't feel ready to give into true love!" He turned away and started pacing once more.

"There is love between us?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Believe me, I know." He met my eyes again.

"So you feel ready _now_?" I said in disbelief as I leaned against the stone.

"I always felt ready. You are always ready. I just needed my head to accept that. Blame my mistake on my head, not my heart. No matter how you try, you can't ignore what's staring you straight in the face." A smile crept onto my face.

"Well now," I said, "I'm ready to accept love." I grabbed his hand, "Are you?"

"I think so." Ron whispered with a smirk.

"I'm glad. Now just shut up and kiss me." And guess what, for the first time in his life he actually listened to me.


End file.
